"Sure, what did you have in mind?" you say, rubbing your face until you wake up a little.
"I dunno, maybe just hang out? I could really do with someone just to hang out with. It's been a bitch of a day. We could order Chinese. My treat."
"Sounds good to me. Come on in."
A few minutes, one phone call and two opened beers later, you are both sitting on your bed waiting for your kung pao chicken to arrive. Alley sips her beer and starts talking about herself (20, likes Billy Crystal movies, hates George W.), her life (born in Atlanta, one sister, moved here two years ago), her job (hates it), her incredible bad luck with men (two consecutive relationships ended with "I'm gay..."). In fact, interesting as she is to listen to, you can't help wondering if she would notice if you snuggled up in your bed and went to sleep. Nevertheless, she is gradually warming to you as you play the thoughtful listener role. She has slowly shifted herself along the bed so that you now sit hip-to-hip, leaning against the wall. You've had your arm round her since she started crying over her cousin who died about two weeks ago.
"...and so I'm hoping to finish my major and become a teacher. Anyway, I've just been yammering on for," she looks at her watch, "goodness, ages! I guess you just make me feel comfortable." She twists toward you, snuggles into your arm and puts her hand on your chest. "Have you ever, you know, just felt totally at ease with someone? Someone you just met, I mean."
"Not until now," you say, and realise that you are actually probably being honest. You're certainly very relaxed.
"Thanks for listening to me." With that, she leans up and kisses you on the lips. You perk up again, immediately. "Sorry, I-" You interrupt her by pushing your face into hers. Your tongues flick between each others' mouths with a mounting urgency. Alley sits up, her lips not leaving yours, and you both fall back onto the bed, her on top. Her breasts push into your chest, and in return your mounting erection presses against her thigh as your faces writhe together. Alley pushes your t-shirt up, rubbing your bare chest and stomach with her smooth digits. Her hand snakes down toward your shorts, toys with the elasticated hem and...
...there's a knock at the door. |